


Before the Dream's End

by Alaska_Ren



Category: Hollow Knight (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, Pain, i will edit the tags as i go but damn, just lots of pain and desparation, there's lots of guilt too, this is hard lmao
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:54:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24287710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alaska_Ren/pseuds/Alaska_Ren
Summary: Author's personal take on how the Pure Vessel grew from the Abyss to the Black Egg temple. Hope you enjoy this spiral into madness
Relationships: The Hollow Knight | Pure Vessel & The Pale King, The Pale King/White Lady (Hollow Knight)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 38





	1. The Hollow Vessel

The vessel climbed up from the Abyss. Its siblings form a cascade of falling broken shells beneath its feet. A regal being of pale light stood atop it all, sharp horns forming the crown of his head. Majestic and shining, the pale light looked at the vessel's white shell and the unending emptiness within. With a nod of approval, he turned and gestured for the vessel to come with him and out of the Abyss into the kingdom of king and creator, the last and only civilization, Hallownest.

A sound was heard from behind the vessel. It looked behind as the light moved forward with no sign of regret. There, clinging on the platform, was another sibling. Those two siblings’ eyes met, void living inside dead children’s shells, and it lingered.

Then the vessel turned and walked away.

The entrance to the Abyss was sealed and the fallen siblings were left to fade.

A palace of gleaming white welcomed their arrival. Rows upon rows of creatures bowed down and rejoiced to the pale light and his chosen vessel. Cheers and the air of celebration took over. The vessel looked on. Another pale being appeared in front of it, and looking up it saw serene, bright blue eyes and branching roots sprouting from her head. Behind this pale root, five bugs endowed in gleaming armour approached to meet it. Praises were given to the pale light beside it. The vessel only looked on.

They walked onwards, the vessel in-between that pale light and root, the five bugs marching behind. With all the praises and rejoices in the air, the vessel only looked on.

“No mind to think.” A new air blew over the crowd and silence filled the palace.

“No will to break. No voice to cry suffering.” That pale crown gleamed as the light, his Root, and his Five Great Knights stood beside him and his vessel.

“This vessel,” the light said, “is born of god and void.” The vessel looked at the light, and it saw black tendril-like shapes marring the pristine white robes at the hem.

“For this kingdom, for our Hallownest, no cost is too great.”

The light turned to face his vessel and placed a gloved white hand on its shell. "You shall seal the blinding light that plagues their dreams.”

“You are the Vessel.”

"You are the Hollow Knight."


	2. The Hollow Knight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Hollow Knight has ascended. Training has begun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuse for updating this really late. Sue me.

The young vessel’s movements started to slow. Its limbs trembled under the weight of their wooden practice nail. Its small form heaved up and down yet its eyes were trained at its opponent. A booming voice came from that great knight of gleaming horns and heroic scents. The knight, Ogrim, dove into the ground and disappeared. The vessel felt the rumbling of the earth as Ogrim burrowed and tunneled under the surface at random. The rumbling stopped and Ogrim erupted from the ground with gigantic balls of earth flying in every direction. The vessel dodged and rushed in for a strike. Ogrim parried, the clang of nail meeting claw ringing through the air.

“Better, Hollow Knight,” Ogrim boomed as he rolled back, “But you have to be faster!”

Not a moment later, a barrage of earth projectiles pelted the vessel. Its grip tightened on its nail and dodged right and left, jumped and dived, and struck down the projectiles with its nail. It sped through with agility uncommon of bugs its age. But with only a few weeks of training under its belt, it did not sense the ball that slammed into its small body. The vessel flew back and beyond the practice ring. It tumbled, rolled, and skidded to a halt. When it brought its head up, it felt small void particles leaving its shell.

"Ogrim. Hollow Knight.”

A kindly voice called out from the side. The vessel and Ogrim turned their heads. A knight with a dress made of leaves and petals reaching her knees stood before them. Her head tilted to the side and her six eyes blinked at the pair. Ogrim straightened in a flash and gave a cheery greeting.

“Isma!” Ogrim’s eyes brightened. The vessel saw a slight blush on his face and the slight fidgeting of his claws.

Why did its mentor do those things when Isma is in the room?

Isma smiled and nodded her head at Ogrim and glided towards the vessel with barely a sound. Ogrim’s eyes stayed on Isma’s form.

“You have to be careful, dear friend. Our Hollow Knight is still a child.”

“I’m sorry, Isma,” Ogrim said, “But we have to prepare him to be the greatest of us all!"

“These things take time, Ogrim.” She leaned forward and offered her hand to the vessel lying on the ground. “You know as much as I how long knighthood training has always been.”

Its empty eyes stared at her outstretched hand. Moments stretched as the vessel did not move, its eyes fixated. Isma breathed out and the corners of her mouth dipped down. She took her hand and pulled up the vessel and laid it back on its feet. She kneeled and it stood still as she dusted the earth from its cloak as best she could.

“I know you will be greater than us all, Hollow Knight.” The vessel tilted its head, the never-ending void evident in its empty eyes. Yet Isma remained, eyes looking into the abyss within.

“I believe you can surpass the Great Five.” She stood and held the vessel’s hand as she started for Ogrim’s direction.

“You will save Hallownest. You will save us all."


	3. The Hollow Duty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The vessel's triumph over the wretched path leads to its downfall.

The constant whirring of saws and shink of those reappearing spears surrounded it. Hours spent in the company of incessant metal drilling into its shell and ears would drive any bug mad. This vessel child, no matter the amount of days spent in this wretched nightmare, stood with its now metal nail poised for another jump, another attempt. Pale light gleamed blindingly from those circular saws and pointed spears. Thorns jabbed at it from every direction. Solid ground spread far in between.

A vessel does not feel, does not fear, but it cannot deny the fatigue its body felt. It looked over its shoulder. That pale and tall statue of Hallownest’s monarch and creator looming over it, horns perched sharp serving as his crown. Watching with its stone hard eyes. Fierce. Steady. Expectant. With every attempt ending in it missing a hit on a fluttering wingsmould, failing at a poorly-timed jump, or slamming face first into an approaching saw, the statue’s presence was a constant to this madness.

The soul given by the statue after every hit of the vessel’s nail filled it with new vigor, movements quickening back to its fluid agility.

Jump, slash, dash, fail.

Jump, slash, dash, fail.

Jump, slash, fail.

Jump, slash, dash, climb, fail.

The statue is hit, eyes remaining expectant. The vessel’s shell repaired.

Stepped back onto the platform, a long hall of thorns, saws, and spears moving in a gleaming dance filled its vision.

It looked on. Waited.

Jumped after a measured time.

Jump, slash, dash, fail.

Jump, slash, jump, dash, slash, slash.

Fail.

Void leaked out of its shell, its arm shaking with adrenaline and fatigue.

But only one option is available for it.

Persevere.

The vessel remained still. The weight of its king’s eyes relentless on its back. The next solid ground is a good ways away, revealing into a drop. It looked around, scanned the thorny and metallic puzzle in front of it. Those saws have their windows, coinciding with those reappearing spears.

“If a problem seems impossible,” its larger mentor, Hegemol, once said, “The solution lies in sight of another angle.”

The vessel tensed and jumped and clung onto the wall above it. A moment passed and with renewed effort and rushed by adrenaline, the vessel sped through the blinding obstacles. Dashing and squeezing through closing spears, it slashed down onto a moving saw. It followed its path and dashed through another saw’s path onto a new one. Spikes erupted from within the thorns below. The vessel swung its nail down to meet them and was left in the air. As its body fell, metallic whirring approached. The vessel slashed its nail and dashed in a blind flurry.

Its feet touched solid ground.

It dashed forward, barely noticing the statue of another bug. The vessel’s eyes followed the height of the statue, its two pale horns shining in the light.

The vessel fell through the air and crashed into a large space. Two stomps from each end of the room made it look up. Four-armed guards enveloped in white armour readied their curved claw blades. They towered over its small stature but the vessel climbed up on its feet, wobbling before it steadied. The guards waste no time and rushed at it. A blade cut the air while the other threw it in a circling arc. It jumped and slashed down on a guard’s head and quickly retreated. Tensing, it released a concentrated spell of pointed knives and it slammed into one’s chest, skidding it back. It ran forward with three slashes cutting away at a guard’s armoured chest. Pouncing on top of the guard, the vessel slashed its face. The guard melted into black substance with the armour's clang onto the floor echoing through the arena.

The remaining guard recovered from the vessel’s pointed spell and ran forward. Nail met claw and the vessel retreated. The guard threw its curved blade through the air, closing in. The vessel jumped and slashed down onto the thrown blade. Its empty eyes met the guard’s before a pointed spell ended its life of servitude, black liquid dripping across the white floor.

The vessel stood alone with empty armoured shells and black puddles as its companion. It lifted a hand to its shell and it came away sticky. It stared unmoving, nail hitting the ground when adrenaline’s rush faded from its tired limbs. A noise of gates opening interrupted its stupor.

A figure of gleaming white horns and ornate robes stood before it. An image of the statue of the same bug appeared, both their eyes stared at the vessel. Fierce. Steady.

Proud.

The being before it has many names. White Wyrm. Hallownest’s Monarch. New Light. Pale King.

Father.

“Come,” he said, “We have much to discuss.”

The Pale King turned and walked away, his ornate cloak swishing with faded black at the hem. The vessel’s feet hesitated before quickly following his steps. The gate to the arena and its bodies closed behind them. It did not faze the king that two of his servants died at the hands of his child. Nor did it faze the vessel that it killed with its own two hands.

It did not faze it. Not when its father was walking beside it. Bright and as sure as the ground beneath their feet. Their steps echoed through the halls. The buzz and shink of those saws and spears sounded faint in the distance but the vessel can still see those blinding gleams of metal. White flowers and pale leaves greeted the pair, with clear view of that immensely rigorous challenge.

“The Path of Pain is tailored for only the best to accomplish,” the Pale King said. The vessel only looked on beyond, retracing each step after fatiguing step.

He reached out and a small luminous fly landed on his clawed hands. The king twisted and turned his hand, admiring the small light it gives off.

“A beautiful creation of mine, as is terrifying.” His hand dropped and the fly flew into the air, disappearing from their sight. “Only those equally as beautiful and terrifying can survive this challenge of mine.”

“And you did, my Hollow Knight.”

The vessel stayed silent, watching as every hall, twist, and turn was visible where it stood. Those eyes he felt from those gleaming statues of kings, may not be just stone after all.

The pair was still, eyes trained at the king’s pale trial. The sound of saws were now as soothing as a lullaby. The vessel heard a rustling of robes, and felt the brush of the pale king’s hand atop its shell before it retreated back to his side.

“You understand why we must do this, my Knight.” The Pale King’s voice was soft, the sound almost drowned by the metallic lullaby. “Sacrifices are inevitable to save our people.”

“But is it worth it if all I see are your sib-”

The vessel saw two empty eyes staring at his in a dark chasm.

Quiet descended once again.

“We must be strong,” he said. “The fate of Hallownest lies in your hands.”

The Pale King turned and faced his vessel.

“Remember this, my vessel. You shall save them all from her ancient rage.”

It turned and looked up to its king. Blank faced, but a warmth gripped its chest. Unfamiliar.

“You must be the Hollow Knight."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pain to come up in the next 2 chapters. lots of pain.


	4. The Hollow Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the flame does not burn, but the troupe master's words brought the vessel to hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm crying you guys

The vessel awoke in a realm of scarlet blazes. It jumped onto its feet, expecting a scalding pain but, as the flames licked its silver robes, no warmth kissed them. Instead, a chill crept up its spine. A trembling hand braved and reached out. The fire’s tongue curled and twisted between its fingertips, no heat. No pain. Much worse, much worse, a sweaty and sickly feeling rises in its chest. The hand withdrew from the phantom flame. Looking down, it quivered and it felt its knees near to buckling.

_A vessel does not feel. It does not fear._

Within those flames, it saw a cascade of shells falling and disappearing into that wretched corpse-ridden void.

 _The Hollow Knight does not think. Does not hope. Does not regret_.

The vessel saw them. A sibling dangling from the platform’s edge, grip holding them from oblivion. A hand reached out from scarlet fire and black never-ending eyes looked into its own.

_Sibling._

A gust of wind extinguished the fires and falling shells and empty eyes disappeared. The vessel’s knees gave in and it collapsed in a heap. It shook and heaved and hands turned into quaking fists on the ground. Void seeped out and black tendrils coiled and wreathed from its body, searching, grabbing at nothing. It lay trembling in silence. With no voice to cry out, memories of their ascension served as its only companion.

_No, no, no, no..._

Moments felt like an eternity. Echoes of cracking skulls and thudding bodies filled the silent dream. A sound of air moving as another sibling’s body crashed on the rock beside it. The feel of dust and aged rock ghosted its hands and knees, its skin raw from climbing. Arms tired, legs exhausted. Climb higher. Higher. Up to that pale light. Away from empty shells. Closer. Brighter.

_Father!_

“Such a beautiful nightmare... hollow child."

A resounding clap broke the spell of its past. It leaped back onto its feet, knees still trembling. Scarlet fog sprung from all around, a deep whispering laugh ricocheted from the depths. The vessel steadied itself, readying for a fight, instinct ruling its movements. A heavy weight appeared in its hand and from a glance it could see its reflection, _their_ reflection on _their_ nail, now forged with a channel running down the middle. That sick and sweaty feeling in their chest subsided but still pulsed faintly beneath the calm.

A swarm of red bats flew from the mist towards the vessel. Their nail slashed through the air but the scarlet swarm flew past and around in a show of fire. The swarm circled the vessel and a flash of bright, scarlet eyes came from a singular bat. The fog curled, as if beckoning them, and visions shimmered, coalescing atop one another. Kingdoms and civilizations of different ages filled their vision. Colors, scents, and sounds familiar and strange, bright and decayed, danced in a performance so unfathomable the very ground itself seemed to give way.

Then everything evaporated in red smoke, and a figure emerged into sight. The vessel's stance unsteadied from the performance and barrage of sensations pelted on their small body. When the smoke cleared, a scarlet cloak hugged the being’s figure and swayed with every step. Bright red eyes flared as the being studied the vessel before him.

“No need to be afraid, small friend.” His voice rasped and choked but, his movement, how he stood, rushed cool to their surroundings, dampening the sick sweaty feeling in the vessel’s chest. “You are in safe hands.”

The vessel calmed, the mere presence of the being seemed to call their essence towards him. They stepped forward, hands releasing a nail turned that turned to smoke. The being stretched out his hand, inviting. Friendly. Warmth seeped from his sweet scarlet gaze and washed over their small, trembling body. The vessel reached out, ready to join him and go somewhere warm, joyful, and safe.

An image of pale light flickered in its mind.

“Ze!”

The scarlet being clutched his hand as the vessel stood with a dripping nail. Their mind now blank and limbs tensed with adrenaline. The being stood quiet, looking at their hand bleeding red smoke. His chuckled rolled low like dying embers, before he snapped his fingers.

A light beamed on the vessel. They finally saw that they and the scarlet being were surrounded by bugs with double-lined masks hiding their faces. Deafening applause came from the masked audience and the scarlet being bowed to them. He straightened and his scarlet cloak swished between his legs as he approached the shocked vessel.

“Pale Wyrm,” the scarlet being said to his audience, a sweeping arm shown in a flare, “Never have I seen such fine a craft as this!”

The scarlet being’s eyes narrowed with amusement then bowed to the vessel.

“Well met, friend. Well met.” He stood tall, scarlet eyes trained at their own. “I am Grimm, master of this dread troupe and king of nightmares.”

The crowd applauded once more as he spun slowly, chest swelled, and reveled in the spotlight. He paused and the crowd hushed, waiting with baited breath for his next performance.

“Your role was set in stone once you climbed the ancient Abyss. A child of Pale Wyrm and Root, corrupted with Void.” The master's eyes shot to the vessel, and they felt a fog descend in their very heart.

“But you, my friend,” Grimm said, stepping closer to the vessel, chuckling seeing the restrained fear scream in their eyes, “Are the finest actor I have had the pleasure to meet.”

He pulled away, a graceful finger tapping at his chin with every other word. His voice scratched at the vessel, and his tone-

_Oh gods._

“The Hollow Knight does not feel."

The vessel's fist shook. They knew.

"Does not think."

Gods, _they knew._

"Does not dream."

_This is... This is a...._

Grimm's face split open in a jagged, red grin. “Yet here you are, dear friend.”

_Lie._

He kneeled in front of the vessel and stared straight down into their void.

“You can hide your emotions from those around you,” he said, “But you cannot hide from your nightmares.”

His tone lowered when he received no visible response from the vessel. Grimm’s eyes remained steady and the vessel sensed rather than saw the light dim around them.

“You are no longer hollow, child.”

A small smirk teased from Grimm’s mouth. “You are already aware of that.”

In a distance, the crowd mumbled and whispered to each other. The vessel stared at Grimm’s figure as he stepped back.

“If you follow the path you walk, it will only lead your father’s kingdom to ruin by a god’s despair of stripped purpose.” Scarlet fog curled towards the vessel as the masked bugs disappeared from sight, Grimm following suite. “The perfect stage for the heart of Grimm’s rebirth.”

As the fog filled the vessel’s vision, Grimm’s voice echoed before everything turned to black.

_“They never even gave you a name."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah, definitely crying


	5. The Hollow Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The most chilling of nightmares are of memories long buried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it do be hard when you write nightmares cuz then you end up crying like a broken violin

It’s dark. It’s cold.

Alone.

_No..._

Endless void pressed against the vessel’s body. The silent emptiness pervaded their shell, eating their body and sanity, leaving only a paralysis fueled by that sick, bottomless feeling. Trapped in its own living nightmare. 

No voice to cry suffering. No tears to shed desperation. Just the prickly, nauseous lump spreading as cancer from their chest, limbs, and head. The vessel lashed out and pounded against air. Hoping to feel something, someone, anyone. Their limbs twitched, wanted to run from this hell. Each attempt at a sluggish step was a wading wasted effort as they felt a sea of thick, dense sap pull them down and drown them.

The pounding in their chest grew harder, faster, louder. Thoughts racing, body heaving. Closer, please. Get me out. Get me out. Get me out of here.

_Get me out of here, please!_

The darkness rushed and invaded their eyes, no light and no sound in this nightmare. Please. Please. _Please!_

Bodies crashing everywhere, soulless eyes from broken skulls. _Thud. Crash. Crack._ Their bodies falling and breaking harder and harder. Tiny arms climbing higher and higher. Dark. So dark. Dark!

Light. Light. Where’s the light!

Small. A pinprick in the darkness, high above the ocean of still children’s bodies. Above every death of souls not lived. It’s better. Warmer. Safer in pale light. Away from here. Away!

The pale dot became smaller, dimmer. Then, became one with the vast black ceiling.

A final thud. A loud silence.

_Don’t-_

No more falling bodies.

_Don't leave-_

No more cracking skulls.

_Don’t leave me here alone...!_

Cracked shells moved. Rattled then stilled. Bodies from floor to ceiling. Dead siblings stood, one by one, heads hanging low. The vessel froze, petrified.

_No._

One sibling straightened. Looked up.

_I want to go home._

Orange.

_Let me g-go home..._

Orange, sickly pupils appeared and glowed in the darkness. Orange, dead, everywhere. They tried to move, tried to fight but the sea of sap trapped them in their own feet. They tried to run. They tried to hide from this nightmare.

_Please._

A hand grabbed their body, then two, then four. Orange eyes coming closer, brighter. Cracks glowing an orange light. A deafening roar pierced its ears as the dead siblings reanimated by the radiant light stalked the vessel.

_Anyone._

A sibling creeped forward and they saw a presence within the light. Hands turned to claws tore at the vessel’s clothes and more siblings crowded them. Hands grabbed at their horns, arms, legs, and tugged in all directions.

_Father._

Empty eyes filled with orange drowned its vision.

_FATHER!_


End file.
